Arabella: Georgette Heyer Book Club no. 16

Bad luck re the ear infection, mackerella. Are you following Sir Hugh Thane's example in The Talisman Ring and retiring to bed with a hot toddy?

V interesting comments re motherless heroines. Most of GH's heroines seem to be working out life by themselves (albeit in Arabella's case with the aid of supporting epistles from back home) and several of them engage in behaviour that is borderline 'fast' or socially risky (e.g. Judith Taverner, Phoebe with her novel writing, Barbara Childe of course) that they just wouldn't get away with if they had a mother on hand watching out for them. There are certainly parallels with Emma Woodhouse in particular here... snubbing Miss Bates is essentially the Austen equivalent of racing to Brighton in an open curricle. So being motherless allows not just more plot latitude but more depth of character development.

Venetia of course is the classic GH novel when it comes to mother issues and it will be fun to discuss that in due course.

Would be interesting to think about attitudes to social reform in the late 18th/early 19th centuries as opposed to the Victorian worthiness we are so familiar with. The Becky scene in Arabella is very similar to the Becky scene in A Little Princess... in fact I wonder if GH was subconsciously influenced by Frances Hodgson Burnett here. Will think further.

Hello all, I'm a bit late to the thread, but that's because I've got a raging ear infection and have been sitting at home feeling sorry for myself. Fortunately, it's being treated with high-dose antibiotics rather than by "stuffing a roasted onion into the afflicted orifice"

I'm still re-reading so hope to come back later with some more cogent comments. In the meantime, here are a few random thoughts:

I agree with those who think Beaumaris is being chivalrous rather than unkind during the lemonade trick. Presumably it would do rather more harm to Arabella's reputation than to his if she were known to have been drunk and barely chaperoned in the house of such a notorious womaniser - I mean, he has spent his whole adult life being pursued by Paphians and high flyers (and assumes at first that Arabella is one of them), so it would be no skin off his nose if she got hideously intoxicated on his champagne. In fact, he recognises her artlessness (and the deception?) very early on and goes to some pains to spare her further discomfort. If he's guilty of anything, I would say it is leading her on to make more and more outrageous claims just for his own amusement.

The point about absent mothers is an interesting one, and I think it goes deeper than GH just avoiding a plot killer. Somebody (Tony Tanner?) has written about the lack of alive/sensible mothers in Jane Austen's novels, and the moral implications of that for her heroines. The motherless young girl is quite a common trope in fiction of the period, and I think it is meant to tap into a number of contemporary preoccupations - about morality, education, female emancipation, rationality, etc. In an age when few women received any formal education and were instead taught by their mothers, it must have been especially important that those mothers were both available (neither dead like Anne Elliot's/Emma Woodhouse's mothers, nor distracted by the demands of caring for so many children like Catherine Morland's/Fanny Price's mothers) and capable (not ninnyhammers like Mrs Bennet and Mrs Dashwood). So many novels of this period show a young girl learning to become a woman - learning to think for herself and form her own (moral and social) judgements without prejudice - and I think that many of GH's heroines should also be seen in that context.

The point about the social concern is interesting too. Somehow, GH manages to give Arabella a social conscience without making her seem priggish - which is quite clever when you consider the dreary religiosity of so many Victorian heroines! It also seems to me from Victorian novels that this sort of concern with 'reform' was often associated with a rather low-church (lower middle class?) sort of person, although I don't get that impression from Arabella. I may be talking bollocks here, though, so please feel free to correct me!

Which year was it set in, Horatia? I've recently been reading Hague's biography of Wilberforce and it is interesting to see how society changes around and because of him, which Arabella would have been part of.

I do think he's a decent cove; selfish, bored, over-indulged and cynical but Arabella rescues him from all that.

I think a lot of her heroes are like that, and it's the heroines who make them fulfil their potential of being 'good men'.

I agree with Casey's point that it's Arabella's expectations of him that force him to change. She isn't doing it deliberately, or even consciously, but her upbringing makes her goodness so inate that he can't help but respond in kind.

It's not very far into their acquaintance that he regrets his game of making her the rage of London and starts to harbour genuine feelings for her. At their meeting at Almacks which is only their second or third meeting in London he is dancing with her, finding her shyness amusing because it is an unusual trait among the ladies of his acquaintance, and says something to make her laugh. That did make her look up, and quickly too, her face breaking into laughter. She looked so lovely, and her big eyes met his with such a frank, ingenuous expression in them that he was aware of a stir of something in his heart that was not mere amusement. He does try and suppress the feelings but her influence begins to change him relatively quickly.

The Nonesuch Club Incident definitely shows him in a good light, imo. He sees Bertram and Chuffy walk in but everyone in the room is either involved in the faro game over which he is presiding or playing hazard. The only one who isn't is Lord Petersham who is deep in thought and won't be of any use. Damn Petersham! Thought Mr Beaumaris, on the horns of a dilemma. Fleetwood and Warkworth then look to Beaumaris to see what he is going to do about these two unknowns. One blighting word from him, and the stranger would have nothing to do but bow himself out with what dignity he could muster. There was the rub: the boy would be unbearably humiliated, and one could not trust that young fool, Wivenhoe, to smooth over the rebuff. He would be far more likely to kick up a dust over the exclusion of one of his friends, placing the unhappy Bertram in a still more intolerable position.

His concern all the way through that paragraph appears to be for Bertram's position and how he can best serve him. The way the humiliation is described as 'unbearable'; that Wivenhoe would make it more 'intolerable'; the use of 'there was the rub'; it would be an easy thing for him to do but he doesn't like what the consequences of it would be on Bertram so he has to make a split second decision.

As the play begins he starts to realise the extent of Bertram's troubles and wonders what possessed Wivenhoe to bring him to such a high rolling club, then he faces another dilemma of whether or not to accept Bertram's vowels, which he does; again, to spare Bertram any embarrassment.

He then has the third quandary of what to do about the vowels. He wants to tell Bertram that he knows they are meaningless the only use I have for his vowels is as shaving papers, but knows Bertram won't accept that so he allows him to think that he is expecting them to be paid.

Besides, the fright may do him the world of good - he knows Bertram is, at heart, a good boy. He knows from Arabella's actions that they have been raised with strict morals and and firm sense of right and wrong and he is hoping that fear will stop Bertram from going any further down the path he is on.

All of it just tells me that he has Bertram's interests most to heart and he is doing his best to extricate him from the situation he is in with as little damage to Bertram as possible.

oh, I'm glad the thread has shown Robert is A Good Egg because I am very fond of him. I do think he's a decent cove; selfish, bored, over-indulged and cynical but Arabella rescues him from all that.

I do like the nods to social history and morality - rescuing the poor chimney sweep's boy. And Poodle Byng - very pleasing use of a real person as a character.

I often think Heyer is more interested in, and has considerably more affection for, young men/boys than 'romance' - she draws Bertram and his ilk so well. Also shows in her detective fiction.

Yes, I agree with all Lady Damerel's interpretations there. Also about readers seeing a lot of the action through Mr Beaumaris' eyes (as we do through Gilly's eyes in The Foundling). It really humanises the heroes.

I don't think it's that she doesn't know who he is so much as that she expects him to be kind and good-hearted (although I suppose that's not knowing who he is in a way), and so he rises to her expectations, and at the same time Arabella rises to (although also subverts) the expectations implicit in being the toast of society (which Beaumaris has finagled her into). Perhaps the conclusion is that being taken out of your comfort zone can be character-building?

Right, after the overheard conversation between Mr Beaumaris and Lord Fleetwood and Arabella's fib that she was an heiress, Mr Beaumaris looks at her through his quizzing glass in an attempt to quell her. Arabella lifts her chin and stares straight back, which surprises Beaumaris because girls/women were usually more coquettish in their response to him.

But Mr Beaumaris saw that there was a decidedly militant sparkle in this lady's eye, and his interest, at first tickled, was now fairly caught. Even that early on in their acquaintance, he's seeing beyond her outward beauty to the personality underneath and realises that there is something there which is beyond the ordinary.

The lines that stand out for me in the champagne incident are: Arabella, having already cast discretion to the winds, allowed her glass to be filled and sipped her way distastefully through it. It had a pleasantly exhilarating effect on her then Arabella, embarking recklessly on her second glass of champagne...

A man of the town like Beaumaris would have spotted quite quickly that she was becoming tipsy and he is sparing her that. It appears that Miss Blackburn realises that because she found herself unable to form a correct judgement of her host. To be plunged from a conviction that he was truly gentlemanlike (his hospitality of them) to a shocked realisation that he was nothing but a coxcomb, (after his ridiculous conversation with Fleetwood) and then back again, quite overset the poor little lady. So she is recognising that he's done it from a sense of chivalry, not malice.

I suspect Fleetwood is just too dim to realise why, but at least he has the common sense to stay quiet - Beaumaris is glaring at him so he doesn't blurt anything out and embarrass Arabella.

Personally I love Beaumaris. I love the way he is with Arabella, how he takes on Jem and then Ulysses despite the acquisition of both being against his better judgement. I think his eternal hope of her telling him the truth of her own volition is endearing and his visit to the Parsonage, his rescue of Bertram and his taking Arabella to his grandmother's is all further evidence of his all round loveliness! I think he is developed much more than her previous heroes; we hear his 'voice' a lot more than we have of many of the earlier novels.

For me, that is why her straightforward romances work much better, because she has time and space to develop all the characters in detail, rather than them taking a back seat to the mystery.

Yes, what LadyDamerel says. It's not that he's sitting there thinking "Now, shall I destroy Bertram's reputation...?" but rather "How the hell am I going to stop him bankrupting himself and his family?" and the option that would most easily and quickly curtail his losses but humiliate him in public is quickly dismissed. And what she says about the champagne, too far from showing cruelty I've always taken that as the first sign that Beaumaris has a kind heart under the necessary froideur .

I also don't think he considers destroying Bertram's reputation, I think he is in a quandary because he knows Bertram is in trouble and wants to prevent him from getting in any deeper but the only way of doing that is to refuse to let him play, with the consequences you mention. I see it as him wanting to help Bertram but just not being able to see how, without humiliating him.

I'm going to re-read those two scenes now, just to see if my affection for Beaumaris is blinding me to his faults...

Lord and Lady Legerwood! Of course, and Justin and Leonie obviously. And I seem to recall Drusilla's parents are alive but off being literary with William Godwin et al. Maybe there are more than I thought.

I love the attic section with the grey hair powder and the lustring sack. I'm sure we've all been through our parents' old clothes (1970s atrocities in my case) and laughed at them.

yes, that's always how I've read it, how is it unkind and underhand?

The champagne/lemonade trick is shown by Miss Blackburn and Lord Fleetwood's responses to be underhand and unkind. I have always read this as chivalry on his part. He's realised Arabella is not used to it, so for her sake he changes it, rather than letting her become drunk but Miss Blackburn and Lord Fleetwood don't have the same perspicacity.

Will go and read the rest now! Just wanted to post that thought before I forgot it.

This was my very first GH book that I read years ago & it's still one of my favourites.

I love the 'it was beyond laughter so they sat respectfully silent' line, me & my brother use it frequently!

I think Beaumaris transformed by Arabella will become Sir Waldo. She won't put up with any nonsense from boys or men, because she has been trained to deal with her brothers.

Does any one else like the bit where they go through the.attic? As do Elinor and miss Beccles. I love that bit, shades of dressing up boxes.

And how about Vidal? Admittedly they are not written to as much as Arabella's mother, but they are around.

I think Freddie Standon's parents are both around..... Lord & Lady Isherwood / Iverwood - whatever their title is.

I don't fancy him either. I like the fact that he is clever though, and don't find him too mean a character to like.

I too love the scenes of family life, and I regret GH doesn't show us the visit Beaumaris made to the household (although I realise it would spoil the reveal).

The bit I don't like it the scene at the beginning where the deception about the inheritance begins, I find it painful!

In my younger days I couldn't bear Arabella, because I found her lie to Beaumaris about having a fortune followed by her terror of being found out too painful. I am less sensitive now though and like thewhistler am v fond of it.

Lady Bridlington is a classic GH character with her apparently kind but actually selfish sensitivity to other people's suffering. Lord Bridlington and his pompous self-satisfaction also familiar (isn't he reused as that very tedious chap in The Grand Sophy?).

Beaumaris is supposed to be an arse to begin with but actually (unlike Horatia!) I don't think that comes across in the text at all. He's a bit petulant to begin with but no worse, and melts very quickly when exposed to Arabella's charms and natural goodness. Arabella is a delight, of course, and the only GH character I can think of with two living and functional parents. (Charles Rivenhall has two living parents, but his father is totally useless - can anyone think of any others?)